The Siege of Bastia, Part I
The Siege of Bastia, Part I
Looking north at the citadel of Bastia, with the harbor and Terravecchia in the background
Looking north at the citadel of Bastia, with the harbor and Terravecchia in the background
Bastia was not the most obvious candidate for being the largest city in Corsica. Geographically, the site has little to recommend it. The other Genoese citadels controlled important bays and anchorages, but as numerous travelers and writers have observed, Bastia is an atrocious port. Positioned on the eastern coast where the Corsican littoral plain meets Capo Corso, Bastia has no natural bay or cove of note. Its harbor was artificial and cramped, unsuitable for anything but small fishing and merchant vessels. The city did not control resources of great value like the fruitful plain of the Balagna; to the south the city was flanked by malarial lagoons and marshland, and to the north and west by hill country, notable for its viticulture and producing some grain but hardly impressive in its productivity even by Corsican standards. The fertile Nebbio lay nearby, but on the other side of the mountainous spine of Capo Corso, making Bastia a dubious place from which to defend that district. The city has no major river nearby and had to rely upon small streams flowing down from the hills for its water needs. Nor did Bastia have any defensive gifts to redeem these other obvious deficiencies, for the city was strategically dominated by the hills above it. The ancient Romans, who knew a good city site when they saw it (and thus, presumably, a bad one), left the grounds of modern Bastia quite alone.
Bastia’s singular advantage was its proximity to the ports of Italy. Aside from the rough and isolated Capo Corso, Bastia was the closest point to Genoa, Pisa, Livorno, and Piombino. At the time of its founding in the late 14th century, the ease of communication and travel to and from Genoa and these other ports outweighed any of Bastia’s other deficiencies. As gunpowder artillery was in its infancy and any serious attack was expected to come from the sea, its poor strategic position was not of great concern, and since it was but a small fortified outpost its limited water supply was sufficient to its limited needs. Even as the centuries wore on and Bastia’s defects became more obvious, proximity sufficed to maintain it as the Republic’s administrative center for the island. Channels were dug and an aqueduct was built to address the water shortage, and as the gunpowder age matured a bastion fort was erected. These improvements, however, had difficulty keeping pace with the city’s growth fuelled by its administrative importance, and by the start of the Revolution what had once been a small fishing village serving as a command post was a city of around 6,000 people.
By the 18th century, Bastia was divided into two districts, known as the Terravecchia (“Old Land”) and the Terranova (“New Land”).[1] The Terranova, also simply known as “the citadel,” was the walled city which lay to the south of Bastia’s artificial port. Protected by five bastions, the Terranova was home to the commissioner-general’s palace and a variety of administrative buildings. Its walls, however, enclosed only 10 acres, and only a small minority of the city’s population actually lived there. Most Bastians resided in the unwalled Terravecchia, as did most of the city’s food stores, wells, and cisterns, and all of its bread ovens. The central problem facing Bastia’s defenders was that most of the resources necessary for its defense, to say nothing of the city’s people, were well outside the fortified enclosure of Terranova.
The first person to recognize this key weakness and try to address it was the underappreciated Vice-Regent Speroni after coming to power in the wake of the Genoese collapse in the interior. Speroni feared an imminent rebel assault on Bastia, and hurriedly mobilized the garrison and the population to build a series of field fortifications around the Terravecchia. To strengthen what was at that time mere earthen breastworks, Speroni designed the perimeter to utilize several existing stone and masonry structures - mostly religious buildings, as it happened - as ersatz bastions. As the danger to the capital ebbed over the course of 1743, work stopped on these rudimentary defenses, but the growing strength of Theodore’s government and the revelation of the Worms treaty had inspired Commissioner-General Pier Maria Giustiniani to continue where the luckless Speroni had left off. In some places the perimeter was shifted to encompass additional “strong points,” and it was extended to cover not only the Terravecchia but the Terranova as well, serving as a first line of defense ahead of the citadel. Giustiniani also increased the quality of the fortifications, turning hastily-made breastworks into high and sturdy ramparts of earth, logs, and fascine with several protruding redans to create opportunities for crossfire, punctuated by converted “bastions” serving as barracks and blockhouses. The withdrawal of most of the Genoese forces from Corsica, however, left Giustiniani with a new problem - he had significantly extended Bastia’s defensive perimeter, but he no longer had the men to hold it.
Since the withdrawal of two Grison companies from Bastia in the spring of 1744, the nominal strength of the regular troops under Giustiniani’s command had been about 700 men - a 500-man Italian battalion under Colonel Carlo Francesco Bembo and a single 200-man Grison company under Major Giovanni Kinich. By August, however, the actual strength of these units was 392 and 160, respectively, and 35 men of the Bembo Battalion were stationed at Rogliano, bringing the total number of regular troops at Bastia to 517. In early August, the Senate had finally bowed to Giustiniani’s urgent demands for assistance and managed to sneak about 150 regulars through the British blockade into Bastia. These “regulars,” however, turned out to be entirely composed of raw recruits, Ligurian peasants who had only been given weapons and uniforms a few months (or even weeks) before and had never seen battle. By September, some of them had already deserted. All told, by the time the rebel siege began Giustiniani had about 640 regulars, 100 provincial troops and militiamen of various types, and just over a dozen artillerymen. Although most of the citizenry was loyal to the Republic and many were willing to assist in its defense, Giustiniani had very few spare muskets to distribute amongst them. Perhaps one or two hundred citizens were able to fight, either with their own personal firearms or the small quantity of muskets which Giustiniani scraped together from his armories, but most citizen-volunteers were relegated to non-combat roles. This suggests a total armed strength of about 850-950, of which fewer than 500 were seasoned regulars. Such a force would be stretched thin trying to both defend the citadel and the outer ramparts.
Giustiniani also possessed two dozen artillery pieces, but all the heavy pieces were pointed towards the sea in the batteries of Dragoni and Portovecchio. Giustiniani could not afford to cripple his seaward defense, as he feared the possibility of British intervention; British warships and privateers were spotted frequently in Corsican waters, and he also knew that Theodore was loudly boasting of impending British assistance (for the king was not the only one with spies in the enemy camp). Even if he had feared no naval attack, however, the western bastions had not been built for large-caliber artillery. What landward artillery he did possess amounted to thirteen light pieces: two sakers (roughly equivalent to a British 6-pounders), seven falcons (equivalent to 3 or 4 pounders), and four falconets (equivalent to 1 or 2 pounders, essentially long-barreled swivel guns on carriages), as well as an indeterminate number of swivels and wall guns. All were kept within the citadel, as Giustiniani did not want his artillery turned against him if the outer defenses fell.
The Corsicans could certainly field more men than their opponents. Just prior to the march against Bastia, Count Marcantonio Giappiconi claimed 921 uniformed soldiers (by which he meant enrolled regulars; not all actually had uniforms). Theodore had also summoned militia from various pieves, who arrived at various times over the course of the siege; initially they may have amounted to fewer than 200 men, but within days militiamen from the northern Castagniccia - particularly Tavagna, Orezza, Ampugnani, and Rostino - had swelled this component of the royalist force to 700-800, and more would come. Surprisingly, however, the Corsican advantage was arguably greatest in artillery, perhaps the first time in the war when this had been the case. The total rebel artillery park - or at least those guns which were operational - included four 24-pounders, nine 12-pounders, and five lighter pieces (two Spanish 6-pounders and three Genoese sakers).
An original Spanish 12-pounder gun cast in the 1730s, mounted on a garrison carriage
Theodore preferred to avoid storming the Terranova if at all possible, and pushed for a more methodical approach which would force the citadel’s surrender. The council, however, was sceptical of the effectiveness of the Corsican artillery and aware that their supply of gunpowder and cannonballs was not unlimited. It was agreed that the artillery would be used to make a grand bombardment against the Terravecchia ramparts prior to a direct assault, which would hopefully drive the Genoese from their defenses and put the Terravecchia in royalist hands. Without their stores, cisterns, and ovens, the defenders of the citadel would inevitably have to surrender.
The royalist encirclement of the city was haphazard and might have been disrupted by a well-executed counterattack, but Giustiniani did not even have enough troops to man his whole defensive perimeter and was not going to waste any in a sally against the rebels. On the 10th of September, after the hills above the city had been swept of any local militiamen, the royalist command established its forward base at the village of Cardo, one mile west of the Terravecchia ramparts. Moving the artillery through the transverse valleys above Bastia and into position, however, would take more time. The attack was originally planned for the 16th, but was delayed by four more days because of problems with the artillery and the expected arrival of the Serra militia under Lieutenant-General Alerio Francesco Matra.
The grand assault did not go as planned. The Corsicans spent the 19th bombarding the Terravecchia ramparts, but the guns were too distant and probably too poorly-aimed to do much damage to the earthworks, and as the ground attack was delayed until the morning of the 20th the Genoese were given the night to repair what damage had been done. When the Corsicans finally advanced, they found a well-prepared force behind strong defenses which they had difficulty scaling, and were turned back with heavy losses. A second attack on the 21st succeeded in capturing one part of the rampart, but poor artillery support and poor coordination between the regulars and the militia allowed a counterattack led by the Genoese “Barabino Grenadiers” to drive the Corsicans from this position. A bitter argument ensued between the recently-arrived Lieutenant-General Matra of the militia and Lieutenant-Colonel Lusinchi of the regulars, who each blamed the other for this debacle. At one point Lusinchi menacingly drew his pistol and Theodore had to personally intervene to stop violence from breaking out.
The Corsicans still had significant advantages in men and firepower, and the Genoese had not maintained their position without paying a price in lives they could ill afford, but Corsican morale was flagging. It could not have helped that within days of this nadir in Corsican fortunes, a squadron of feluccas arrived at Bastia harbor with food and munitions for the garrison which the royalists could do nothing to prevent. Theodore had not yet despaired; he directed Major Battisti to design a new plan of attack that might make more use of the rebels’ firepower, and the topic of a night attack was discussed with his generals. Still, it remained unclear if the royalist army would actually be able to translate their advantages into victory. For the first time in months, Giustiniani dared to hope that he might weather the storm. Yet there was one decisive factor which both sides had failed to consider: the luck of the Wizard of Westphalia, which manifested itself in the arrival of three warships of the British Royal Navy.
Some manner of explanation is required as to how these ships came upon Bastia in late September. In August, the Spanish fleet - or at least that part of it which was fit to sail - left its base at Cartagena. When Vice Admiral William Rowley received word of it, he feared that this was the long-awaited attempt at junction with the French fleet at Toulon. The Spanish, however, were bound for Naples, where they disembarked supplies, artillery, and 3,000 veteran troops for the usage of General Jean Thierry du Mont, Comte de Gages. If there was any lingering doubt that the Austrian army of Feldmarshall Georg Christian, Fürst von Lobkowitz would have to withdraw from the Neapolitan border, this new wave of men and supplies dispelled it. The small British detachment off the coast of Latium would remain there only through early September, when they assisted in the evacuation of the Austrian invalids to Livorno (including Lobkowitz himself, who had taken ill with the same “Roman Fever” that had afflicted at least 2,000 of his men).
Rowley, upon learning of this movement, shifted his force from Hyères Roadstead to Vado Bay. This sacrificed his close blockade of Toulon, but guarded Liguria from any attempt by the Spanish fleet now at Naples to bring supplies or reinforcements there while placing his own fleet between the French and Spanish fleets. The Spanish, however, had no intention of trying their luck against a superior British squadron, and unbeknownst to the British the French had already determined upon the guerre de course. They used Rowley’s absence to slip more than a dozen ships out of Toulon, which were bound for the Strait of Gibraltar. This changed the center of gravity in the theater; now the enemy’s naval power was chiefly concentrated around Gibraltar and the Atlantic coast of Spain (where another French fleet was already blockading the British convoy of victuallers in Portugal), and the British, who still erroneously believed the French and Spanish intended to form another combined fleet and challenge them, assumed the most likely possibility was that the Bourbons were attempting to gather this fleet at Cadiz.
This obviated the need for Rowley to hold a strong force at Hyères, but his new position was no less troublesome. A Gallispan fleet at Cadiz was just as dangerous as a Gallispan fleet at Toulon, for while they would be in no position to interfere in Italy they would be sitting directly atop the route needed for British merchants to sail west, to say nothing of the hapless victuallers. To escort the merchants and the victuallers, Rowley would need to take a large force - perhaps his whole force - west to Gibraltar and out of the Mediterranean entirely. This, however, would leave Italy entirely unguarded at the very moment when an aggressive blockade of the Riviera was sorely needed. After the fall of Ceva the situation in Piedmont now appeared very dire, and just a few days before he had planned to make sail for Port Mahon, Admiral Rowley was made aware that the Genoese had decisively joined the Gallispan army in combat. Although news of the Treaty of Aranjuez had not yet broken, it was now clear that the Republic was a hostile power.
Rowley proceeded to Port Mahon as planned, but intended to hold his position there until better intelligence as to the enemy’s disposition could be gained. In the meantime, a squadron was detached under Commodore Robert Long to maintain the blockade of the Riviera. Although Rowley was loathe to detach valuable ships of the line given the inadequacy of his force against the combined fleet he feared, he could leave Long too weak to oppose an approach by the Spanish squadron, which was unaccounted for since leaving Naples. Accordingly, Long’s squadron consisted of seven ships of the line, the Russell (80), Bedford (70), Dunkirk (60), Dragon (60), Romney (50), Oxford (50), and Newcastle (50); the frigates Liverpool (44), Seaford (24), and Lowestoffe (24); three bomb vessels and their tenders; and four smaller ships. His instructions stated the following:
Long had no instructions regarding Corsica, but as Rowley had left him to his own devices with regards to provisions (which were critically low) the commodore took it upon himself to make inquiries. Having heard from Britain’s diplomats of the present situation in Corsica, Long dispatched Lieutenant Thomas Herring in the 8-gun sloop Enterprise to reconnoiter Isola Rossa and San Fiorenzo and report as to the possibility of procuring provisions there. This cruise ended positively; Herring made contact with Marquis Simone Fabiani at Isola Rossa, procured a few head of cattle and some flour, and learned that the annual migration of the Corsican shepherds to the coastal plains was now underway. Over the next few weeks, the availability of livestock would improve substantially. Although Herring’s trip had no direct impact upon the siege then unfolding at Bastia, it prompted Long to send a request for clarification to Rowley as to the government’s relationship with the “Corsican malcontents.” Before this question could be asked and answered, however, Long detached the Dragon, Newcastle, and Seaford under the overall command of Captain Charles Watson to cruise between Corsica, Livorno, and Elba and intercept enemy shipping. On the 17th, Watson took several Genoese and Neapolitan barques off the isle of Gorgona, and on the 23rd seven feluccas were sighted off the coast of Corsica near San Pellegrino. The British pursued these ships to Bastia, where they were able to slip into safety in the harbor, guarded by the citadel’s guns.
Captain Charles Watson
Watson first demanded the surrender of the ships and their cargoes from Giustiniani. When he was predictably rebuffed, his thoughts turned next to the Corsicans. Neither Captain Watson nor his superior Commodore Long (nor, for that matter, Admiral Rowley) had received any orders regarding the “malcontents” of Corsica. Watson, however, was privy to the admiral’s instructions to Long and the squadron, which stated that he was to use his “utmost endeavours” to take or destroy enemy ships wherever they might be found. Conferring with his fellow captains, Thomas Fox of the Newcastle and John Wilson of the Seaford, Watson agreed that a cutting-out expedition in the cramped harbor of Bastia under the guns of the citadel was inadvisable. Yet since there was very obviously an army besieging the city, the destruction of the feluccas might be possible through alternative means. A boat was dispatched to the shore to make contact with this army's leaders so as to get a better read of the situation. It returned to the Dragon with a message from none other than “Theodore I, King of Corsica,” welcoming the British to his kingdom and requesting any assistance they might be able to render.
The captain considered this request carefully. The "Kingdom of Corsica" was not Britain’s ally, nor a recognized state at all. The official injunction against commerce with the “malcontents,” as far as he knew, was still in effect. Yet Genoa was an enemy power, and the squadron’s instructions were clear. Mathews and his captains had on several instances launched shore raids to destroy ships at port or procure supplies; would such an action become censurable just because of the cooperation of local “malcontents?” And had not Commodore Long already broken the letter of the ban by procuring provisions from Isola Rossa, to say nothing of the fact of the Navy’s earlier assistance rendered to Theodore?
A model of a 60-gun Fourth Rate ship of the 1733 Establishment, the same class as the HMS Dragon (click to expand)
Theodore was undoubtedly grateful for the assistance rendered by Watson’s ships and Aytone’s gunners. The greatest advantage gained from the rendezvous with the British, however, was psychological. For years, Theodore had been promising that foreign aid, and British aid in particular, was right around the corner; it briefly appeared in 1743, but the squadron that sailed with Theodore into Ajaccio Bay proved a disappointment and vanished soon after sinking the San Isidro. Now, however, the Corsican soldiers emerged from their tents each morning to see warships flying the British ensign, and anyone in the vicinity of the army headquarters at Cardo could glimpse the “English captain” (actually a 28 year old lieutenant) conversing with the king, or a few red-coated marines standing guard outside the houses in Cardo where Theodore had billeted his British “allies.”[2] Whatever the actual material contribution of the British to the siege at Bastia, it certainly appeared that for the first time in 15 years a great power had arrived on Corsica to fight alongside the Corsican nation.
Footnotes
[1] Confusingly, however, the Terranova was considerably older than the Terravecchia.
[2] Only the marines had uniforms, as the first uniforms for British sailors and naval officers were not introduced until 1748. Lieutenant Aytone, like his sailors, would have been dressed in civilian clothing.
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